


Weathering With You

by savethelastslice



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, MY EYES, and clouds, bc haechan shines so brightly, mentions of Dreamies, this is just fluff and sap, with gratuitous comparisons drawn with the sun and rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23037211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savethelastslice/pseuds/savethelastslice
Summary: Mark thinks that there can only be so many comparisons he can make of Donghyuck with the sun but, funny enough, he hasn't run out yet.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 9
Kudos: 129
Collections: Markhyuck, My Favorite Fics





	Weathering With You

**Author's Note:**

> *throws fluff around like confetti, be still my markhyuck heart*
> 
> Alternative title: Our Orange Umbrella

When Donghyuck takes an umbrella out with him on Friday, Mark frowns. 

It’s not that he thinks bringing an umbrella is anything weird. If nothing else it’s an absolute must-have for him, having been caught in the sudden Canadian rainfalls too many times to count. This particular umbrella - a hideously bright orange with, of all things, bright yellow suns dotting the entire canopy - just screamed _Lee Donghyuck_ and as a result, no one in within a five kilometer radius would touch it from the day he had bought it three weeks ago, no one except for him.

Which he hasn’t. It’s been sitting on top of the shoe cabinet in all its orange glory. Until today, that is.

Mark stares uncomprehendingly out the window. The sky is blue, white fluffy anime clouds, the works. Uncertainly, he calls out, “Donghyuck?”

The younger trainee is busy tying his shoelaces, narrow shoulders hunched over in concentration. Beside him, the offending umbrella is sticking out of his half-zipped duffel. “Yeah?”

“You’re bringing your umbrella.” It’s more a question than a statement with the way Mark’s voice lilts up and wobbles slightly with an uncertainty he hopes will pass with puberty. 

Donghyuck takes his time to finish tying his shoes securely. “I think I might need it today.”

“You do?” Mark glances out the window one more time. He thinks back to two days ago, when the storm clouds sagged heavily and distant rumbling sounded. He’d rushed back into the dorm to get an extra umbrella when Donghyuck had refused to bring his own along, claiming nothing would happen to them. 

Nothing did. It was only after they’d gotten back to the dorms and Mark had been unpacking his bag that he remembered the spare umbrella.

“Better safe than sorry,” Donghyuck winks at Mark, pushing the door open. “You coming or not?”

Mark sputters something incoherent but ends up stumbling out the door, following the familiar sound of bright laughter echoing down the corridor.

That afternoon, a looming shadow blankets. Mark and Donghyuck are just coming out of the subway from school when the raindrops begin to fall. They stand there for a while, Mark staring speechless at the dark underbelly of the sky, Donghyuck calmly pulling out his umbrella. When he’s decided Mark’s been staring like an idiot for a bit too long now, Donghyuck elbows Mark in the ribs.

“Ow,” Mark protests weakly. At Donghyuck’s raised eyebrow he can only sigh. “I...I didn’t bring my umbrella.” _I didn't think I'd need it today_ goes unspoken.

“It’s alright, we can share,” Donghyuck grins happily and reaches out to pull Mark closer towards him. In the faintly orange light the younger’s skin practically glows gold. “Just look at the rain - I wouldn’t lie to you, hyung! Never never never.”

Mark rolls his eyes because huh, like that ever happened.

Mark’s morning routine goes like this: he wakes to the sound of the dorm ahjumma pottering in the kitchen, preparing breakfast and doing the morning chores. He stretches the sleep out of himself before even opening his eyes. He always opens one eye first, the other takes longer to coax to start the day. Bathroom, uniform, contact lenses. When he’s about halfway through the morning’s food Donghyuck bounds out of the room with a cheery greeting, plonks himself opposite Mark and starts talking a mile a minute. 

Before they leave the dorm, he sees if Donghyuck touches that umbrella on the shoe cabinet. If he does, Mark grabs his (he’s taken to leaving it beside Donghyuck’s, you know, for convenience). If he doesn’t, the pair of umbrellas sit there for the day, bright orange beside blue.

Jaemin thinks it’s adorable in an old married couple sort of way. Jeno does too. No one really knows where they keep their umbrellas, neither do they half the time. But all of them know that so far, Donghyuck’s never been wrong, not even once.

Without thinking, Mark stops checking the weather app on his phone, and starts looking at the boy next to him instead. Renjun's got a list of the times the weather app's been wrong and Donghyuck right. It's well into the seventies now, and he only started it half a year ago.

Donghyuck likes sunny days, Mark knows. He likes it when the sun’s round and bright but gentle, light filtering through the gaps of the buildings in a golden shower, not too bright, not too hot. On days like that Donghyuck is bubbly, energetic, charming. He laughs like he could never run out of laughter, cracks jokes on live radio or during practice that gets the mood up for a long time. He walks with a jump in his step and when he thinks he’s alone, he starts to hum.

On days like those Donghyuck _glows_ in a way that often makes Mark wonder why it’s not considered conventionally beautiful to be tan. It’s why they’ve all given him the nickname, Full Sun, that the agency’s quite keen on establishing further.

He does, though, think that tan is beautiful. How could he not, when Donghyuck is shining so brightly in front of him?

It’s not one of those days today, unfortunately. Donghyuck’s standing three steps ahead of him as Mark struggles with his umbrella’s button - it’s starting to get rusty - whining about how they’ve ditched practice today to go out, because quote unquote, it was Mark’s birthday and he deserved a break on his last year before debut, but now he was wasting precious time.

Mark rolls his eyes. Coming here wasn’t even his idea, Donghyuck had grabbed hold of him and whispered, “let’s go to Hongdae, I’ve got Taeyong hyung’s permission” and that was that. He jams his thumb on the clutch with unnecessary force and, with a _shoop_ his umbrella springs open. 

Mark falls down a step in shock, and Donghyuck’s shrieking about getting wet by the force of the umbrella, but he’s also laughing, and despite the ridiculousness of the situation - two trainees set to debut in half a year, one with that ridiculously orange umbrella, both of them skipping practice, no less - so Mark finds himself laughing too.

Honestly he’s not even completely sure Donghyuck managed to get Taeyong’s permission. He thinks Donghyuck probably rattled off some idea at Taeyong who grunted on reflex, not entirely listening to whatever he was agreeing to. But lately Mark had been so tired, so stressed about getting not just one but _three_ debut projects perfect, and he was so tired, and today was his birthday, and with Donghyuck hanging off his shoulder how could he say no?

Actually…

“Hyuck, I don’t know if we should do this.” Mark has to yell to be heard above the rain and the crowd. “If we hurry back now we can still make it before lunch break ends.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose. “Hyung, have you really not been listening to what I said?”

“No, I have been, but -”

“I’ve got proof, here.” Donghyuck holds up the speaker of his phone to Mark’s ear and Mark shuts up and listens.

“Happy birthday, Mark-ah!” Mark’s eyebrows shoot skyward. He casts a glance at Donghyuck’s screen (whatever he can see from that awkward angle) and makes out a voice recording played over Kakaotalk. It’s Taeyong’s voice, and Taeyong’s number. Donghyuck hadn’t even saved it yet. He was probably still scheming to find the perfect nickname for his contact. 

Mark knows that his contact is saved as “Markiepoo” because he had hated it when Donghyuck called him that when they had been younger. Now, he sometimes considers not picking up the younger’s calls by virtue of the fact that Donghyuck is exceedingly aware of what he’s doing whenever he phones him, and Mark doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of it. Mark’s smart. He knows what Donghyuck is doing.

(And every time, he picks up anyway.)

“You’re probably at Hongdae right now, worrying about dance practice.” Mark withers slightly under Donghyuck’s amused look. Taeyong’s voice, blissfully unaware of Mark’s embarrassment, carries on. “With your hard work, and the fact that we all know you’ll push yourself hard, probably too hard, as we go forward, Mr Kim thinks you deserve this day off. Have fun!”

Mark’s speechless as Donghyuck repockets his phone. Finally, he opens his mouth. “People are going to recognise us.”

“Nah they won’t, stop worrying.” Donghyuck hikes his umbrella up on his shoulder and shoots him a sweet smile. “When have I ever lied to you, hyung?”

Mark wants to argue, he really does (have you seen that _umbrella_?), but something makes him shut his mouth as the two walk down to their favourite kimchi jjigae place side by side. After that, they walk the streets and buy a thing or two. Intermittently, Mark gets the feeling he’s being watched, that someone’s recognised him from SM Rookies or, all goodness forbid, Mickey Mouse Club, but somehow, no one does.

On rainy days, when the sun hides behind the clouds and the city is grey, things are different. Days like that, Donghyuck has a penchant of seeking out hot chocolate and snuggles close to whichever member is nearest to him. Most often, it’s Mark.

So Mark will make a big fuss of _get off me, you overgrown meatloaf_ , but eventually Donghyuck’s smiles will win out and he will deflate, allowing the younger to wrap around him like a koala. It used to freak Jungwoo out until he realised that Mark actually didn’t mind.

Donghyuck knew this. Mark knew that Donghyuck knew this. They followed the same script anyway, a comfortable routine.

With a quiet voice, Donghyuck will ask Mark about his day, ask him what he thinks about something or other, hand tracing absent circles into his back. He doesn’t crack as many jokes. His normally bright and mischievous eyes soften to something gentle but no less real. 

Mark often catches himself thinking that Donghyuck is the sun. On rainy days he retreats on himself a little, like he’s saving the energy he has. Maybe the sun dims a little behind the clouds when there’s no one around to see it, nothing it has to shine light on. Sometimes he wonders if it’s tiring to shine for that long, to have the weight of giving energy to plants on his shoulders.

He pauses and thinks about this metaphor - are the plants the fans, or the members? Both? Mark will look down at Donghyuck who eventually dozes off on his shoulder, long eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks, and wonder.

Maybe Mark could be the clouds, hiding Donghyuck for a moment, allowing him to close his eyes if only for a while.

He thinks his line of thought’s getting too cheesy and promptly abandons it. It sneaks up on him again anyway. Whatever.

Mark kind of thinks he likes those days better, the days Donghyuck shines just for him. The evenings where rain patters on the window panes, shutting out the rest of the world and it’s just Mark and Donghyuck, Donghyuck and Mark. 

A small snuffle comes from beside his ear and Mark laughs softly. “You’re like a little koala, Hyuck.”

“Mm.” Donghyuck lets out a sigh. His eyes are still closed. “Just for you.”

“Don’t say things like that, Donghyuck-ah,” Mark snorts. He turns to find a large pair of doe-eyes studying him with intensity. "Don't say stuff you don't mean."

“That’s not true and you know it,” Donghyuck says, and right, Mark realises. Donghyuck never lies on rainy days.

Rain isn’t for Mark. Johnny says it’s all the negative ions, citing Yuta citing some research article. 

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and the members have all gone out for some schedule or other. Mark’s lying down on his bed with his eyes shut. There’s a dull ache in his head mirroring his fingertips, guitar newly laid to rest in its case after an unsatisfying music session when the notes refused to flow.

The door opens and a weight crashes onto Mark’s bed, jostling him. He grunts. A pair of strong arms wrap around him and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to see who it is when a cheek nuzzles into the crook of his shoulder. “You’re back early from vocal class.”

“Mm,” comes the reply. Mark’s eyes stay closed as he wiggles to give Donghyuck more room. What does make him open his eyes is the shuffle of the bedsheets when the arm pulls away, and Mark finds himself staring at the white of the ceiling.

“Mark hyung, why are you so warm?”

Mark almost snorts, but even his self-control isn’t strong enough to stop the smirk that forms on his face. Woe be to him if he let this rare opportunity go - when Donghyuck _actually_ set himself up. He just hears the smugness seep into his voice (he’s always been the worse liar of the two of them) as he replies, “yeah, I’m pretty hot.”

There is a pause. Mark’s about to explode from holding in his victory when a hand snakes over to his forehead. “Yeah, you’re pretty hot,” Donghyuck says evenly. A lump of doubt starts to rise because Donghyuck? Playing along with Mark’s quips? when Donghyuck continues. “You have a goddamn fever.”

Now that Donghyuck mentioned it, Mark does feel a heaviness in his limbs and a vague sense of being off-balance. Mark sits up immediately and the room swims. His hands fly to his forehead. “No way. Tomorrow’s schedule -”

“Can wait,” Donghyuck says with finality. He slides over to the edge of the bed and swings off. “Stay here.”

In a few minutes, Donghyuck’s back with a thermometer, a glass of warm water, and pills for Mark’s fever. He’s told on no uncertain terms to go to sleep, so he does.

When Mark awakes some time later, there’s a bowl of chicken and vegetable porridge by his bedside. It’s still hot, steam rising from the depths. If Mark had felt ill then he felt downright sick now, arms shaking with effort to rise from the bed. Still, the sight of the warm bowl was inviting enough for him to make his way to the desk to eat properly.

Later, Mark’s collapsed back on the bed. He stares up at the window above his head. The rain’s falling heavier now and his pillow feels a little damp. It’s still bright out so Mark figures it’s late afternoon - there are still rays of sunlight that seep through holes in the cloud cover.

The last thing he hears before falling asleep is familiar gentle humming. Then the sound of his windows being shut, a hand on his forehead, of porcelain scraping wood. He falls asleep thinking of umbrellas. Somehow, they’re all orange.

It’s a Thursday and the skies are grey with clouds. Neither rain nor shine, a day of in-between.

Days like this are rarer than Mark would expect, but nothing he’s complaining about. On days like this things slow down can really swing both ways: there’ve been plenty of days where Taeyong let them stop practice just a little earlier, or days where their managers treated them to ppopgi or some other treat. The raindrops would pelt against the glass windows of their practice room.

Those were the good days. There were plenty of others where the grey got to them and everyone got irritable. Frustration would build until someone snapped. For the rest of the day, the air would be charged with tension and weird energy bouncing off all those negative ions. 

Mark knows days like that hit Jungwoo and Donghyuck especially hard. The effect of infighting on Jungwoo was hard to miss, he was such a gentle soul, and Jaehyun would take him aside with an arm around his shoulder. 

With Donghyuck, Mark thinks many members don’t notice. Taeil does, he knows, on days Mark himself is too exhausted to do anything. But most days, it’s Mark who finds him after practice. This rainy season’s been long, that’s all.

The day starts off well. The members are all in high spirits, having been praised by Bo-Ah sunbae when she’d dropped by that morning. Morning fades to lunch and morphs to afternoon. It is natural for the long hours to take their toll.

They are having a quick water break after drilling the bridge portion of their choreography for what had seemed like an eternity. Mark is wiping ineffectually at the nape of his neck with his drenched towel. He’s only distantly aware of voices behind him as he stares at the window thinking about pulling down the blinds - the outside an awful mix of strong afternoon sun and the clinging dampness of old rain - when it happens.

“- it was just a joke, I didn’t mean -”

“Yes you did, why can’t you think about others for once in your life!”

Pin drop silence. Mark whips his head around in time to see Donghyuck run out of the studio, slamming the door behind him.

A short distance away, Taeyong is breathing heavily. His face crumples immediately after the door crashes shut, shoulders folding in on himself. Head in his hands, he’s swaying slightly as Doyoung and Yuta rush to steady him. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it, oh god.”

Mark makes eye contact with Taeil from across the room, who imperceptibly nods his head. So Mark drops his bottle and rushes out the door.

Once outside the dance studio, Mark looks wildly in both directions down the corridor. Where would Donghyuck go? His feet start carrying him in one direction before he’s even conscious of an answer because in times like this, Mark knows only one place he’d go.

Sure enough, when Mark shimmies the third last door of the private practice studios open (a secret he and Donghyuck had learned as trainees and protected fiercely), Donghyuck is standing beside the upright piano, staring into space. Mark catches a glimpse of his expression and his heart catches in his throat. Donghyuck hates it when people see him like this.

Donghyuck doesn’t seem to register his presence until Mark drapes his towel over his head. When he speaks, his voice is thick and muffled. “Wha -”

“You uh, forgot your umbrella,” Mark says awkwardly. With a sigh he throws himself down on the ground and tugs Donghyuck next to him. “And it’s raining.” 

“It’s not -” Donghyuck cuts himself off abruptly. “Yeah. Guess it is, huh?”

Gently, Mark circles an arm around Donghyuck’s shoulder, and the younger boy leans into his touch. “Does your leg hurt again?”

“Mm.” Donghyuck hates to admit it on the days his leg injury acts up. Mark knows it’s worse when it’s damp and wet, but he never complains. “I don’t know, I just think it’s easier for everyone to work when we’re having fun.”

Mark hums, picking at the hem of his jeans with one hand. “I know. But don’t take all the burden of mood-making on yourself, okay?” At the following silence, Mark pokes his arm. “Hyuckie?” 

Donghyuck can only laugh. It comes out wet and stuffed. “Yeah, yeah. Taeyong hyung probably feels like shit. He’ll apologise later but, whatever. It still sucks now.”

Mark squints at the graceless change of topic. It’s not fair, he thinks. Don’t be so hard on yourself, we’re here to bear it too, let hyung shield you for a bit on rainy days, at least.

He feels Donghyuck’s eyes on him. “I know you’re thinking of something.”

A light dusting of pink appears on Mark’s cheeks. All that comes out is, “The sun doesn’t have to shine every day.”

Donghyuck blinks up at him, surprise evident at the sudden rawness in Mark’s voice. After a beat he sighs and snuggles close. “You’re so weird, Markiepoo.”

They stay like that for a while. Mark feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he quickly takes in the messages he’d missed. 5 unread messages, 3 missed calls. Shaking Donghyuck awake from where he’s steadily been falling asleep, Mark smiles. “If the rain’s stopped, think you can walk?”

Donghyuck flexes his leg experimentally a few times. “Yeah, it’s not so bad now. Dance practice -”

“Discontinued,” Mark says with flourish. “It’s way past five, anyway.” He recalls the way Donghyuck’s hands had hovered over the umbrella before leaving the dorm without it. No worry there, then. “Let’s get going.”

“Where to?” Donghyuck’s voice is bewildered as Mark hauls him up. The towel nearly slips from his head to the floor but he catches it in time. Mark doesn’t answer him, and Donghyuck snorts. “People will see, hyung.”

Mark rolls his eyes. “As if it’s possible to get more conspicuous than your umbrella?”

“You love my umbrella, don’t lie!”

Outside, a cool evening breeze has blown in, hurrying some of the earlier damp away. The streetlights are just flickering on as Mark leads Donghyuck out of the revolving SM building door.

As they hurtle down the steps to the underground train, just two boys in sweats and plain shirts, Donghyuck pauses and Mark nearly faceplants. His heart skips a beat and he’s still full of adrenaline as he turns around to fix Donghyuck with a thoroughly unimpressed stare. “Sometimes I really hate you.”

Donghyuck has a strange expression on his face as he smiles back. “No. No you don’t.”

A flush of red appears in Mark’s cheeks before he remembers: it’s not raining. Even so, he knows Donghyuck isn’t lying. Heck, _he’s_ not lying to himself about it anytime soon. Maybe it’s the reflection of the streetlights on the evening streets, or the way it feels so free to be out walking for the first time in ages, no escort, no bodyguards, that he feels something in him pushing against the boundaries. Maybe it’s the promise of warm kimchi jjigae and magical side-streets of Hongdae. Maybe - oh, Mark throws a glance to the sky - maybe it’s the light drizzle that’s begun to fall.

“Sun and rain is the best combination,” Jungwoo had hummed dreamily once, when Mark had voiced some of his thoughts aloud. “Doesn’t it produce the most beautiful artwork across the sky?” 

Mark thinks about that addition to the metaphor. Of the rain splitting different wavelengths of sunlight, revealing more and more of the complex being that is Donghyuck. Open, truthful.

So he asks. “Do you? Hate me sometimes?”

Donghyuck’s eyes soften and he takes Mark’s hands back into his. “I don’t hate you. Never never never.” Mark thinks it sounds like a promise.

Half an hour later they’re zig-zagging through the streets of Hongdae, and Donghyuck’s saying something about recreating the scene from The Notebook, you know, since they’ve both confessed and whatnot. Mark rolls his eyes because that requires a downpour and not a drizzle, and today’s a day that doesn’t even need an umbrella.

Speaking of the umbrella -

Even the drizzle’s letting up by the time they reach their usual store. They sit by the open window. The moon has risen, the sky painted in strokes of dark blue; the sun has set, asleep in a valley far away, baton of light passed on. Maybe there’s another sun waiting to tag-team it and Mark really hopes there is, because Mark stares at Donghyuck and the subtle glow of golden-orange he radiates, tan and resting and full of life. 

There’s orange in the kimchi jjigae that the ahjumma brings to their table. It’s bright and eye-catching (though it doesn’t hold a candle to Donghyuck), but no one recognises them - in that moment, they shine for themselves and each other, and it feels like living.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! stay safe and spread love during this season yall


End file.
